Hypothesis Confirmed

Leandro could not believe he was hearing this, and was decidedly grateful that nobody else was anywhere near to being in earshot. The steady, flat way in which she spoke about – presumably – masturbating, was, combined with the silky smoothness of her voice, in itself rather arousing. And what, exactly was she asking him? His mind raced with pleasurable possibilities, until, at last, he suddenly reached one that actually made rather more sense.

"Oh, I get it," he said, "I'm an engineer. You want me to make you a vibrator."

T'Sel looked at him with a curious expression, one eyebrow cocked. "I do not understand," she said, simply.

"I guess there's no word for it in Vulcan. But, you know... an electrical device for, uh, stimulation."

"Interesting," she said, "I had not thought of that possibility. Although, had I done so, I am sure that I could have constructed such a simple mechanism myself without the need of an expert engineer. No, that was not the experiment I had intended, which I suspect would be a more comprehensive trial than the one you suggest."

"Then, what...?" Was she really asking him what he thought she was? Surely he couldn't be that lucky?

"I believe you have already interpreted my intention, and merely wish me to clarify the particulars," she said, chiding him a little. "I have observed, during our previous encounters, that you find both my physical form and my company to be pleasing, and I also experience a reciprocal attraction. Since I naturally require my co-experimenter to be non-Vulcan, I find you a most logical choice for the role, having the greatest potential for inducing a positive result."

"If you are amenable, I propose that we engage in recreational copulation, to determine the physiological and experiential parameters of non-reproductive sexual activity in the Vulcan female."

"Well, why didn't you just say so?"

–-***–-

Leandro paused for a moment on the patio outside the small hotel that they had agreed on as the location for the 'experiment'. The sun was setting over the sea in a riot of gold and fiery orange. T'Sel was nowhere to be seen, and he wondered if she could appreciate the natural spectacle before him as humans could.

Perhaps; he had never been to Vulcan, but he had seen images, and the cities were not devoid of artwork, nor full of grey and utilitarian buildings. They were a people who gave every indication of appreciating beauty in their architecture and homes, so why not in the natural world, too? It was all in soothing and pastel shades, from what he could tell, but then Vulcans were not devoid of emotion, they just refused to be ruled by it.

How that would apply to tonight, he could not say. It was undoubtedly a strange situation to find himself in. How did T'Sel really feel about him? She said that she experienced a 'reciprocal attraction' towards him, but quite what that meant, especially to an alien, he had no idea.

Leandro was not one to boast about his conquests, as Chuck the security officer did, but that did not mean that he did not like sex. There had, to be sure, been little opportunity for it on the Endeavour, with its limited supply of human women... although there had been that attractive Nigerian ensign in Life Support a couple of years back. She had since been assigned to a different ship, and had apparently found someone else after that anyway.

Yet here he was, about to make out... or something... with one of the most desired and yet unobtainable women on the ship. It was hard to wrap his head around it, harder still to interpret those alien thought processes of hers. This was far from romantic, but he wasn't going to turn her down.

Apart from anything else, he was curious... was her theory actually correct? He was certainly going to do his best to find out.

He turned to head inside, glancing briefly around the tables laid out on the patio. He realised that he recognised one of the couples there from the crew of the Endeavour. The man was Max Dorner, a weather scientist that he had worked with not so long ago, calibrating some long-range planetary sensors. The Andorian woman's name he didn't know, although he had seen her about, and he guessed that this must be the 'Sh'ree' that Lugmilla and the others had been talking about earlier in the day.

The Andorian was wearing a bikini top and a wrap-around skirt, and was leaning in towards Max, the couple sharing a quiet conversation, hands entwined. Clearly they were doing a lot more than just renting out a double room, sitting out here and admiring the sunset together. A human and an Andorian, as obviously in love as any couple could be.

A human and a Vulcan might be more of a challenge... although it had happened, historically. Or so he had heard. Not that a longer term relationship was what T'Sel had in mind, so far as he could tell. He stepped into the hotel, not wanting to intrude any more on Max and Sh'ree's quiet moment, for all that it had given him food for thought.

He passed a couple of other people on the way to the room. One, a Risan woman, gave him a smile and a wink. She probably worked here and knew as well as anyone what happened in the hotel rooms... although she would likely find his particular situation surprising.

He thought, for a second, that the second woman he passed was a Vulcan, and wondered what she was doing here. She was tall – almost remarkably so – with short-cropped brownish hair and a haughty demeanour. She glanced at a small read-out device, frowned, and gave a tut of annoyance before striding past Leandro down the corridor, a determined expression on her face.

It was only then that he realised that she was a Romulan, not a Vulcan. Her forehead was flatter than normal for her race, which was why he hadn't caught it immediately, and Leandro reflected that it was the obvious, if minor, display of emotion that had really made him notice the difference.

T'Sel was right; her people and the Romulans had a lot in common, despite their long cultural and genetic isolation. Which, now that he thought about it, made her theory all the more plausible. Leandro certainly hoped it was right... one-sided enjoyment really wasn't his style.

At last, he found the room, knocked on the door and slid it open before stepping inside. To his surprise, he found it lit by a soft, warm, glow from dozens of candles lining the walls and laid out on a desk and the top of a small cabinet. Finding himself alone, he walked over to the cabinet, noting what looked like Vulcan filigree on the silver candle holders. He could smell the faint odour of the burning wax, combined with something like incense, yet more subtle than he was used to.

Experimentally, he moved his hand slowly over the desk. It passed through the candles as if they weren't there. They were, as he had begun to suspect, holograms; it explained why the wax didn't seem to be dripping, as well as how so many had got here in the first place. The scent had to be added as an effect. Doubtless the room was set up for this sort of thing, although without the expense of a full holodeck.

Apart from a large window, currently shrouded by a curtain, the room featured only a bathroom door, a wooden screen that presumably led to a walk-in wardrobe, and of course, the bed. It was a double, very neatly made, with plain white sheets with a pale green stripe down side, decorated with Vulcan writing in a contrasting golden tan. That presumably wasn't a hologram, so... impressive.

"Do you like it?" He started as the bathroom door opened, and T'Sel stepped into the room . "It is my understanding that an appropriate ambience may be off assistance in promoting activities of this nature. However, I have few relevant human reference sources, and hope that this will prove suitable for our purpose."

"It's perfect," he managed to say, although his eyes were now drawn solely to the woman in front of him.

The soft light only accentuated her beauty, but even so it was apparent that the Vulcan had put some thought into her own appearance, too. She was wearing a long white sleeveless gown, the hem falling to her ankles, gathered at her waist with a narrow belt decorated with tiny silver balls, almost like gemstones. Leandro's eyes moved upwards, taking in her bare arms and the way the fabric followed the curve of her bust without being particularly revealing. The collar was high, both concealing and emphasising her slender neck.

She wore her hair up, gathered at the top by a strand of fine silver chain. Twin strands fell in front of each of her leaf-like ears, one of which, he noted, bore a decorative silver clip about half way up. In the half-light, her hair seemed inky black, her dark eyes shadowed beneath long lashes and high, sloping, eyebrows. Her face, of course, was serene, expressionless and entirely unreadable.

"As are you," he added, realising that he had been silently drinking in the vision in front of him for too long.

"I am glad that you find this acceptable," she said, her voice as smooth and musical as always, her calm inflection only adding to the allure. Leandro was already finding himself more than a little aroused.

"I hope you understand," continued T'Sel, " that I will require some guidance in the details of tonight's activities."

"I... uh..." Leandro tried to focus again on the actual reason for his being here. "You mean, you haven't... I assumed..." Surely she was old enough to have undergone the Pon Farr before?

"I believe that you misunderstand. I am aware of details of the biological process, and have, as you may surmise, experienced it on a previous occasion. However, I have no recollection of the event."

Even she could read the wordless surprise on his face at that revelation, and so continued with her explanation. "This is natural to Vulcans, I assure you. Very little research has been done on this aspect of our biology, as you may imagine. It is, after all, not considered one of the undesirable side effects of Pon Farr that we wish to alleviate. However, it appears likely that the hormonal surge within our bodies inhibits the laying down of long term memories, leaving only confused recollections which we are reluctant to examine too closely. I suspect that our adherence to logical discipline may further inhibit such recall."

"That is to say, my memories of the Pon Farr are limited and partial, although I am aware of the general nature of the events that occurred around me. However, I have no recollection at all of the final act – I recall entering the room, and nothing more until the tumult in my mind had passed. Of what occurred between those events, I know nothing except by logical inference."

"Okay..." said Leandro slowly, "I think I understand. It's quite different for humans... but then, I guess you knew that. But, just to clarify, this memory lapse is specifically a Pon Farr thing, right?" At least she seemed more comfortable using the term now; he recalled how she had seemed almost embarrassed to use it earlier in the afternoon.

"I believe so. However, as I have said, there has been little research on the matter, and I believe that you have identified the same possibility that I have. While it is logical to assume," she continued, "that Romulans retain at least a degree of recollection of their non-reproductive sexual activities, or they would have no motive for engaging in them, I cannot exclude the possibility of the recall being partial. Furthermore, should my hypothesis be incorrect, this may be a previously unknown distinction between our genetic races."

"As such," she said watching his expression for a reaction, "it will be necessary to make a recording of the experiment."

That he had not been expecting. Not at all.

"There is, however, no requirement that the recording be visual. An audible commentary is all that will be needed. To this end, I have a microphone and recording device, here," she indicated the item of jewellery on her ear. "There will also be no need for names to be mentioned, so your anonymity will be preserved. I have observed that you are a discreet individual, and trust that you will also be able to maintain the confidentiality of the experiment."

"Is all of this satisfactory to you?"

Did he catch a look of hope in her eyes at that point? It was difficult to be sure, and he might well have been imagining it, but it seemed that way. He paused to collect himself, then looked at the beautiful woman in front of him again. She really had made an effort over this, he reflected.

"Yes, of course," he said, "that's fine. It was a surprise, I admit, but, actually, it's," he gave her a quick grin, "very logical."

She did not, of course, smile back, and instead just nodded. "I am glad that you concur."

"Anything else I should know?"

"We are, I believe, agreed on the terms and purpose of the experiment. For the avoidance of doubt, however, the experiment is to terminate when either one of us states that it should do so, when a positive result is obtained, or, in the event of a clear negative result, on your ejaculation. Agreed?"

"Agreed," he said, finding his throat a little dry. He knew one thing; he was going to do his best to ensure that the result was positive. If, of course, that was even possible.

"Then I would suggest that we commence. Should we disrobe now?"

He gazed into her brown eyes, seeing no more than a mild curiosity, politely waiting for his response. He reached out, and ran a thumb across her cheek, feeling the soft smooth skin. She made no response, so he took a half-step closer, their bodies now almost touching.

"It doesn't have to be straight away," he said, leaning in to brush his lips to hers.

He moved back again, watching her expression in the flickering candlelight. It hadn't changed, and her posture remained as neutral as ever.

"Ah," she said, "the preliminaries. I understand."

"Look," he began, "if you're..."

He had been about to ask if he was making her uncomfortable, if her concept of the 'experiment' did not include this, but he did not get the chance. For at that moment, she leaned into him, holding his head, and kissed him back.

It was a gentle kiss, her lips not parted, but the feel of her soft lips against his was blissful, and drove any thoughts of dissuading her from his mind. After a second or two, she pulled her head back, her eyes locked on his, a slightly quizzical look on her face. "Hmm..." she said, with a questioning inflection, and kissed him again.

This time her body melted into his, and he found his hands around her waist, feeling the texture of the white fabric beneath his fingers, the curves of her narrow waist. T'Sel placed her free arm around him in response, running over his back, a gentle caress that seemed more exploratory than passionate. Her other hand still held his head to hers, and this time she opened her mouth a little more, as he responded to her in kind.

For a moment, she broke away from the kiss, tapping the device on her earlobe before returning her hand to its former position.

"Recording begins," she said simply, "kissing is a more pleasurable experience than I had anticipated."

She was, he realised as they began again, a surprisingly good kisser. She was soft and gentle, not full of passion or lust, yet she was yielding in his arms, lips moving against his, one arm stroking his back, the other running down the back of his neck as their tongues entwined in a slow, languorous, dance. He moved his own hand to her head, stroking her jet black hair, pausing for a moment to feel the alien outline of a pointed ear, then dropping it down again to hold her shoulders, keep her pressed against him.

They remained like that for a while, locked in one another's arms.

Leandro was the first to break from the kiss, running his lips instead across one of her smooth cheeks down to the angle of her jaw. T'Sel obligingly tilted her head, although he could not help noticing a lack of any other reaction; she was not breathing heavily, for instance, seeming as unmoved as always.

The high collar of her dress was done up with a button at the side, which he deftly popped with his left hand as his right moved down to cup her shapely behind, pressing her body closer into his. Her long neck now exposed, her kissed her throat, before moving back to her cheek. His nose and lips brushed her earlobe, and he flicked his tongue out, nibbling gently at her there, tracing the unfamiliar, leaf-like shape. He squeezed her buttocks as he did so, pressing his hips into hers.

"Co-experimenter showing signs of physiological arousal and tumidity," T'Sel said. "Concurrent sensations or reactions are not observed, although the experience remains pleasurable."

"But just 'pleasurable'?" asked Leandro, a little disappointed.

"I found the kissing satisfactory," she said, pulling away a little to look him in the eyes.

"'Satisfactory'?"

"I feel a mild compulsion to continue, and I can see the emotional attraction that this would have were I not able to control that compulsion."

"There's no need to control it."

"The instinctive nature of..."

He silenced her with another kiss, and she did not object. Wow. He just couldn't get over what an incredible kisser she was, especially given her apparent detachment from the experience. He had both his arms around her back now, and slid one hand up towards her slim shoulders. There he found what he was searching for – the fastening of her dress, previously hidden behind the wrap-around collar.

Still with his lips locked to T'Sel's, Leandro undid the zip, running it down her back to where it ended just above her hips. His hands ran along her bare back, cool smooth skin beneath his fingertips. He hadn't realised it until today, but it was becoming apparent that Vulcans' body temperatures were a couple of degrees below those of humans; not cold enough to be off-putting, but noticeable nonetheless. If anything, feeling that coolness against the warmth of his own body only added to the sweetness of the sensations.

The Vulcan woman was also clearly following his lead, for, even as he stroked her back, she unhitched Leandro's shirt from his waistband and ran a hand up beneath it, tracing the contours of his body. Her motions were methodical, yet gentle, a careful exploration that never faltered, even as they continued kissing.

Gently but firmly, he began to manoeuvre her towards the bed. She readily got the hint, kicking off her shoes, and then pulling away from his embrace to help him pull the shirt up and over his head. She looked down over his body, running a hand over his abs and up to stroke his chest. He wasn't the most muscular of men, but Leandro liked to think that his regular sessions in the gym paid off, and that he at least looked sleek and well-toned.

It was, of course, impossible to tell from T'Sel's expression whether or not she agreed, although the way that she ran her fingers over his body suggested that she certainly didn't disapprove.

Leandro placed his hands on the Vulcan woman's hips then slid them up, admiring the curves of her slender waist before reaching her shoulders, reaching round and beginning to ease her out of her dress. She needed no encouragement, sliding her arms free, and pushing the hem down before he could reach it. The dress pooled on the ground around her ankles, and T'Sel immediately stepped out of it, allowing his fingers only one brief brush against her flanks before she moved away to lie down on the bed.

Leandro stared mutely at the vision of beauty before him, bathed in the golden candlelight. His gaze travelled slowly up her long calves to her slender thighs, admiring the creamy smoothness of her skin. From there, his eyes took in the curve of her hips, and the shape of her belly, before lingering further up. Her underwear was plain black, utilitarian rather than lacy, but the bra did nothing to hide the perfect shape of her breasts, the way she lay un-self-consciously emphasising her cleavage.